


The Tragedy of War

by Walkinthegarden



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, R plus L equals J, Robert's Rebellion, Sacrifice, Sad Ending, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 05:16:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1141900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walkinthegarden/pseuds/Walkinthegarden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lyanna didn't mean to start a war. </p>
<p>As she watched her father’s bannermen fall, the tears began to fall. They were her people, the ones she swore under her duty as a Stark to protect, and she was the reason they were falling from their horses. In anger and misery she let out a cry that in moments went from anguish to physical pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tragedy of War

**Author's Note:**

> Every Game of Thrones/A Song of Fire and Ice fan has to do one at least once. Here's my take.

Lyanna Stark was a naive girl of ten and six when she first met the Targaryen prince. Despite the promise of marriage to a handsome man who adored her, the prince intrigued her. He was the knight of a song come to rescue her from the betrothed that she knew would one day raise his hand to her.

 

Years later the people of the North would whisper that her youngest niece was just like her, yet they were more wrong then they were right. In fact, any that knew her well enough would know the niece she favored most was indeed her elder one. Lyanna may not have had the fire locks and ocean eyes of young Sansa Stark, but her head was just as full of fairy tales and songs and princes.

 

When Rhaegar offered her his hand that night only weeks after their meeting, begging her to run away with him, she took it without hesitation. Lyanna was prepared to leave her family for the man that she so loved. They stole away into the night and rode towards the South.

 

Nearly three months later when she heard of the deaths of her father and brother, Lyanna was nearly inconsolable in her grief. She demanded to return home but was convinced to stay when she was informed that her body would soon swell with a child. She fell to her knees that night and begged the gods to forgive her.

 

Another seven months passed and the war had come to their doorstep. Rhaegar held tightly to her, whispering false words of assurance that all would be well. He placed his hand on her belly, full with their child, and promised her he would keep their son or daughter safe. He didn’t leave her until Gerold Hightower came to inform the prince that he was needed. It was the last time Rhaegar would ever kiss her.

 

When he was gone from her sight, Lyanna took a place by the window, tears forming in her Stark eyes as she watched the battle below. She knew she had been a selfish child when she ran off with Rhaegar. She had been a stupid little girl with dreams and ideals that would never have come to pass. What had she expected? After running away from her betrothed with a married prince. She had thought they would live in a castle and raise babies with long blonde hair and gray Stark eyes.

 

As she watched her father’s bannermen fall, the tears began to fall. They were her people, the ones she swore under her duty as a Stark to protect, and she was the reason they were falling from their horses. In anger and misery she let out a cry that in moments went from anguish to physical pain. 

 

“M’Lady,” her handmaiden cried out, running to Lyanna’s side.

 

“He’s dead!” Lyanna cried out, tears streaming down her face. She cried to the gods, this was their punishment for their treason. Rhaegar had been slain for his crimes and now her own life would be stolen from her with the birth of her child.

 

With her legs spread and a knight on either side of her in an attempt to calm her, Lyanna begged forgiveness for her sins. When her handmaiden handed her the beautiful baby boy, she knew her life was fading and she didn’t care. Her son was as perfect as an angel and she never wanted to let him go. She continued to cry, she could hear the song of the dying outside her window and the ring of the blades that crossed. As she looked down at her so perfect little boy, she knew if she were able to turn back time she would no longer accept Rhaegar’s hand. She would sacrifice her happiness and her son, to stop the rebellion that had already claimed the lives of so many.

 

She never meant to start a war.

 

Her wonderful and gracious elder brother burst through the door and nearly stopped dead when he noticed the blood on her white night dress and the baby in her arms. He ordered the handmaiden to run and never look back and his men killed the knights that had been posted to guard her.

 

She lay dying before him, her son wrapped tight in her arms. What was done was done and it was no use taking him from her so young.

 

“Lyanna,” he whispered to her as he fell to his knees at her bedside.

 

“Take care of him,” she begged, her voice even despite the crying.

 

“Lyanna…” he started but she cut him off, the blood continuing to pool around her.

 

“Promise me Ned. Promise me,” she repeated, tears in her eyes as they closed for eternity, never to open again.

 

She didn’t see her brother shake with sobs as he took the babe from her arms and pressed his lips to her forehead. She didn’t see as he ran from the tower with her son clutched tightly to his chest. She didn’t see so much, even before her death. She didn’t see the destruction it would cause.

 

She never meant to start a war.  


End file.
